Page 33 of Side Out

Dad side-eyes me and laughs. “I’m good.” He looks around him. “Looks like it’s shaping up to be the perfect summer night. A nice walk would do me some good.” Dad rubs at his belly. “Your mother would probably agree.”

I snort a laugh. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the bowl of ice cream every night before bed or the cinnamon rolls with a pound of icing she makes you for breakfast.”

Narrowing his eyes he points his finger at me. “The only reason this ranch has survived this long is because of those cinnamon rolls.”

I roll my eyes and smile. “Oh, I don’t doubt it for a second.” I grab Penny’s lead and hop up on Lady. “Call me if you need me.”

Mumbling under his breath, he waves me off and goes back to fixing the gate. Lady and I lead Penny back to the barn at a relaxed pace. We could easily trot back, even with me holding Penny’s lead in one hand, but Dad’s right. It is shaping up to be the perfect summer night.

The Montana summer night that tourists dream of seeing at least once in their life.

The kind that I’ve been lucky enough to have spent countless hours running outside in, as a kid.

The kind that I laid under the stars with Katie James freshman year of high school while we held hands.

As Penny, Lady, and I come to the top of the hill behind the barn, I stop and take a moment to look around. My youngest brothers, the twins, Bryson and Grayson are doing the nightly farm chores, I can smell Mom’s dinner floating through the open kitchen window, the dogs are chasing around a couple of barn cats, and the evening sun is well on its way to painting the perfect picture in the sky. The pinks and oranges the perfect backdrop to the pristine mountain range.

Inhaling a deep breath, I take it all in.

I could have stayed in Pensacola for the summer; I didn’t need to come home and work. But I knew in my soul this was exactly what I needed. I was lost and I knew these people, my family, and this place, could help me find myself again. And when I called Mom and Dad a few days before I left to ask if it was okay, Mom basically sprinted upstairs to get my room ready before the phone call was even over.

I’ve been home for a few weeks now, and I have loved every minute of it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s hard work, and there are some mornings I wake up and my knee feels stiffer than ever. But the second my ass hits Lady’s saddle for our morning ride, everything else just fades into the background.

There’s no busted up knee. No stressing about going back to school for another year. No thinking about who my new doubles partner is going to be. No wondering what I’m going to do after college. And most importantly, nohim.

It’s just me, Lady, and the mountain air.

For the first time in almost a year, my mind is… clear.

One of the dogs barking in the distance pulls me out of my day dream, and I start to walk Lady and Penny down the hill. Once I get to the barn I hop off Lady and start undoing both their saddles and get them ready to go in the barn for the night.

“Where’s Dad?” Grayson asks.

“Still fixing the fence. Said he’d walk back when he’s done.”

Bryson’s eyes light up. “Mom’s almost got dinner ready. If we can beat Dad inside we could pick the first steak.”

“Ha. You and I both know Mom is just going to set it aside for him,” I tell the twins.

Bryson rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. They’re so in love it really grosses me out sometimes.”

He’s not wrong. The love my parents have for one another is something very few people find in their lifetimes. It’s a kind of love I’ve seen only a handful of times. In my parents. In Rocky’s parents. And now… between Clay and Rocky.

It’s a kind of love I always dreamt of having. A kind of love I know my parents would give anything for me to have. For any of their sons to have.

A love that I find myself craving more and more every day.

And that thought lingers with me as I put the horses away and walk back to the house behind the twins. Was it my desire to find a love like that, that clouded my judgment? Was the glimmer of hope all I needed to obsess over a man who was so clearly not good for me?

Maybe it’s also why, despite not speaking to him once since I left school, regardless of his many attempts to text and call me, I still find myself religiously checking those damn cameras. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to bed.

I will admit, as unhealthy as my new little habit may be, I have learned quite a bit abouthe who shall not be named. I’ve learned that he drinks his coffee black. He watchesNew GirlandThe Officeepisodes on repeat. He eats stovetop popcorn at least twice a week. And most importantly, whatever is going on between him andBridgetis clearly not built out of love. When she’s home, which appears to be rarely, the two of them hardly talk, let alone touch. And even though I don’t have a camera in their bedroom, which I’m both kicking myself for and partly grateful, I think it’s safe to assume they don’t have sex.

I don’t know what is going on between them or why they’re even together, but I can confidently say, I don’t care.

Or… at least I’m starting not to.

“Boys! Don’t you dare, that’s your father’s, and you know it.” My mom’s voice sounds through the screen door as I make my way up the front porch. “You haven’t even washed your hands!”

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